


Broom People

by isyotm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Moving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isyotm/pseuds/isyotm
Summary: Neither Vex nor Vax is very excited to be moving so suddenly to a new high school.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by the Mountain Goats, although I kind of like all of _The Sunset Tree_ for this.
> 
> I wanted to play with the idea of what Vex and Vax might've been like when they first met Vox Machina after leaving Syngorn, but I'm also high school AU trash so we ended up with this.

Vex sits on her bed, absently stroking her cat’s fur and surveys their new surroundings with barely concealed distaste.

It’s not that she misses their father’s house or even Syngorn. That frozen museum, lacking all warmth and love except for what she and her brother managed to save for each other, had never been a home. Living in Syngorn for six years, most of the life that they remembered, had done nothing to endear it to them or them to it.

She knows with a certainty that lives deep in her bones that she wouldn’t have been able to endure it alone. If she hadn’t had her brother…

A ten year-old isn’t capable of surviving that kind of loneliness.

No, she doesn’t miss the house. She doesn’t miss the people in it who never looked at her as anything more than a chess piece, something to lever in negotiations with her father. She doesn’t miss the town that turned its back on them even as it extended its hand for their father’s coin.

That’s what she misses. The money.

It’s strange to have so much then suddenly have nothing. They were poor before too, before her father found out about them and decided to try and play house with a woman he had nothing in common with and children he barely tolerated, but she barely remembers struggling. She’s heard her mother talk about their old life, how they all shared a room because with one paycheck for three mouths she couldn’t afford anything bigger, but that’s hard to reconcile with the simple happiness she felt as a child, exploring their complex during the day, curling up next to her mother every night, going on adventures with her brother in the park down the street.

Now that she’s older, she can see the cracks in those golden memories. Her favorite doll was a shabby handed down hand-me-down. They played outside as often as possible so her mother could leave the lights off and save on the electricity bill. They slept in one bed because there was no money or room for another one.

She sees the cracks in this life too. Sometimes she feels selfish for keeping Trinket—pets are expensive—but she doesn’t know how she could possibly give him up.

“I don’t want to try,” she says out loud to her brother. She knows how selfish it sounds.

He pauses, the ball he was throwing falling into his hand with a light _slap_ and staying there. There was no lead up to this suggestion but he seems to understand what led to this comment because all he says is “It’s the least we can do.”

 She opens her mouth and closes it again. She wants to ask him not to tell their mother, but neither of them is very fond of lying to her.

He draws an X over his heart anyway.

She smiles. “Thank you.” She doesn’t need to say it, but sometimes they forget to remind each other beneath all the teasing how much they care.

He nods and goes back to throwing the ball in the air.

 

* * *

 

Their new high school is a grim reminder of their fall from grace.

“Don’t be dramatic, Vex,” her mother admonishes from the driver’s seat. “It’s not a fall from grace, it’s just…a change of scenery.” She shoots a smile to the back seat where her twin children sit, but it’s tight and thin. From this angle, Vex can see there are new lines in her mother’s face and new grey streaks in her hair. This is just as hard for her as it is for them.

She feels a flash of unfamiliar guilt and opens her mouth to apologize, but her brother speaks first, an easy smirk on his face. “Besides, it’s hard to fall from grace when you were never there to begin with.”

They high five. Elaina sighs, but the tightness in her face recedes and so does the guilt in Vex’s chest. She nudges her pinky against the side of her brother’s hand where it rests on the seat. _Thanks._

The corner of his mouth lifts as he nudges back. _You’re welcome._

“Can you drop us off around the corner though?” Vax asks.

“Riding with mom is not exactly the best first impression to make,” Vex seconds.

“Fair enough,” she agrees with a small smile on her face. She pulls out of the roundabout and turns a corner, pulling over into the fire lane on the side of the building. “Better?”

“Much.” A tall chain-link fence separates them from the back of a series of faded and rusting portables scattered across a lawn full of dead grass. Vex raises an eyebrow. _Charming._

Vax shrugs, although he’s clearly as unimpressed as she is. There’s no frown on his mouth, but she can see it in the shape of his eyebrows and the way his eyes keep flicking back and forth, looking for something that isn’t there.

Their mother turns around to face them and Vex quickly changes her expression to something pleasantly neutral. Next to her, Vax does the same.

“You’ll both be good, won’t you?” Elaina asks with mock sternness, but the tight lines are back and there’s real concern in her face. Vex knows she and her brother are not easy children at the best of times and their sudden socioeconomic downturn has been...difficult to adjust to.

“Of course,” Vax says in his smoothest voice, but they can both tell he’s being sincere. They’ll try, at least, which is the most their mother can ask for.

Vex pecks their mother on the cheek. Already it feels rougher and older than before. “I’ll keep him out of trouble,” she promises. _Unless trouble finds us first,_ she doesn’t say. From the look on Vax’s face, he heard her anyway.

He leans forward and kisses their mother on her other cheek. “See you at home,” he says. They grab their backpacks and slide out of the car.

Elaina rolls down her window and says, “Have a good day at school. I love you both.” It sounds more earnest than before, like she’s worried they won’t believe her.

They nod and wave goodbye as her car pulls away and disappears down the street.

 

* * *

 

The front of the school is crowded with more people than Vex and Vax have ever seen in their entire life and for a moment she feels a stab of another unfamiliar emotion: Fear.

When she and her brother were little and afraid, they would hold hands until the scary thing went away. When nightmares made sleep impossible, instead of running to their parents they would find each other and curl up together, holding each other tight as if they could keep the monsters away.

Her fingers twitch now, the fear more abstract than when she was little but no less real, but she can’t exactly walk into high school clutching her brother’s hand like a lifeline. She glances at him and sees a mirror of her own feelings reflected in his face.

She presses her index finger against his, a poor substitute. _You’re not alone._

He shifts his weight, moving infinitesimally closer to her. _Neither are you._

The fear doesn’t leave, but the stranglehold on her heart does. Her breathing slows. She sets her jaw and takes another step towards the front of the building. _We can’t stay out here forever._

He exhales, long and low, too harsh to be natural. _No. I guess we can’t._

 

* * *

 

The woman who greets them in the office is bubbly and excited and makes Vex grit her teeth. She would be perfectly suited to a kindergarten classroom, but here in the dim, grimy cinderblock office all she does is highlight everything that’s wrong. She stands up and opens a tall filing cabinet, rifling through dozens of identical manila folders before plucking out two with a triumphant “ _Here_ we are!” She places them on her desk, shuts the drawer, and edges around to settle into her own seat, pulling the files forward and flipping through them with a speed that says she’s either memorized or really doesn’t care about the contents. Based on her unnatural enthusiasm, Vex suspects the former. Vax’s eyebrow is lifted ever so slightly in agreement.

“Now, why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourselves, Mr. and Miss…um, how do you pronounce your last name?”

“You don’t,” Vex mutters drily.

“Sorry, what was that?” the woman says in her perpetually cheerful voice as she leans forward and angles her ear towards Vex. _All the better to hear us with._

“‘Vex’ and ‘Vax’ are fine,” Vax translates as he pushes against her foot, but he’s doing that thing where he scratches at the corner of his mouth to stop it from turning up.

“I’m Vex,” Vex adds helpfully, baring her teeth in an artificial smile.

“Short for Vex’a—”

“Just Vex is fine. Really.”

“If she insists on saying our full names, we’ll be here all day,” Vax says in her ear as he leans over and pretends to pick some lint off of his shoulder.

“It’s possible she might choke first,” Vex replies, covering her mouth to fake a yawn.

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

The woman continues chattering on in front of them, oblivious to their quiet, half-hidden conversation. “Now I _know_ your mother said that you two like to stick together—”

Vex freezes. Her knuckles go white as her fingers tighten around the arm of the chair she’s sitting in. Next to her, Vax stiffens, his jaw clenched tightly shut around his outrage. There was a time they both would’ve argued, raged and screamed until they got their way, but six years in an unforgiving world where showing emotion is admitting defeat has locked their words inside. Instead, Vex forces herself to swallow all of her anger, all of her helplessness, and focus on the woman’s inane words through the buzzing in her ears.

“—but I think a little separation would be good for you!”

Vex thinks of a million cutting remarks and hears them in both Vax’s voice and her own. Her fingers itch again, but if she couldn’t grab his hand outside she definitely can’t now. That would just prove this woman right. She clenches her hands into fists instead. Vax crosses his arms, his hands jammed under his armpits, his face as dark and furious as a storm cloud.

She pulls out two pieces of paper and hands them across the desk to Vex and Vax. “Here are your schedules. You each have one class and lunch together. How does that sound?”

Vex flicks her eyes over her own schedule and then Vax’s. The classes are identical, but the order is different. Except for one, as promised. She pretends to straighten her paper, using the rustling noise to draw Vax’s attention. She raises her eyebrows, studiously not looking at him. _Well?_

He taps his right knee with his right hand. The side closest to her. _I like your schedule better._

She nods imperceptibly. _Me too._ She ends the day with a free period so if they wanted, they could just go home early. Then again, his free period is first thing in the morning and sleeping in would certainly be nice. She drags her finger down the list of classes, moving especially slow at the top and bottom of the list. _Are you sure?_

He taps his right knee again, feigning impatience. _Yes._

She puts the paper down in her lap and smiles up at the woman. “Thank you. I’m glad you were able to match our courses to what we were learning before. As you may have seen in our records, my brother and I are very devoted to our studies and we were worried our transfer might have a negative impact on our education.” She pauses and glances down and then back up again, smile replaced with a rueful grimace. “And I think you might be right. Maybe a little separation would be good for us.”

The woman beams, soaking up Vex’s lies and drowning them in praise, telling them how smart they are, how glad she is to have them here, how good this will be for them in the long run, etc., etc. Vex ignores most of it, careful to keep a polite smile on her face as she follows the woman out of the office they spent most of their morning in. Next to her, Vax discreetly crumbles his schedule into a ball and tosses it into the garbage.

She rolls her eyes at her brother. _Why are adults such idiots?_

He rolls his eyes back. _They hear what they want to hear._

 _I don’t ever want to be like that._ And she’s not just thinking of the woman in front of them.

 _Me neither._ A somber expression crosses his face for the briefest moment and she knows he’s thinking of the same person she is.

 

* * *

 

By the time they finish up in the office, it’s technically lunch time, so they follow the stream of students flowing towards the cafeteria. There are so many people it’s hard for her to breathe, and more than once Vex nearly loses sight of her brother in the crowd of students. She feels a hand reach out and grasp one of the straps hanging from her backpack and turns to see her brother. His face is calm but his shoulders are shaking and his hands are white-knuckled.

She closes her eyes for a second in relief. There are too many people here. That’s the problem. They can handle strangers—after all, their father’s house was filled to the brim with strangers, a constant stream in and out of people with their own concerns, their own agendas, wielding self-interest like a sword—but there were only so many at a time. Here there are people everywhere, a sea stretching out in every direction, crashing against the walls and spilling down the halls and it scares her. It feels like if she loses sight of Vax, she’ll never be able to find him again. That was never something she had to worry about at their father’s house, in the town they used to live in.

The cafeteria isn’t much better. The room feels bigger than an auditorium and every single one of the long benches is filled with people. She hears that buzzing sound in her ears again, the one she heard in the office when the woman said they were going to be separated.

“Do you see anywhere—?”

“The corner.” Vax reaches over her shoulder and points.

The table isn’t empty, although she recognizes that’s too much to hope for, but the spot he’s referring to is separated from any other students by at least three seats. It’ll do.

She nods.

Walking across the cafeteria feels like a trial, a test of both her physical and emotional strength. She has a moment of self-consciousness, wondering what she and her brother look like to everyone else, tall and dark-haired and serious, but she pushes it away. Self-consciousness leads to mistakes. When she feels awkward, she is awkward. Confidence is key.

They sit across from each other, balancing on uncomfortable plastic chairs, buffeted by a million conversations at once. It’s strange. At their father’s house, they had private lessons, personal tutors, lunches alone in the kitchen or the dining room. Here, everything is communal, everything is public.

“I guess that’s why they call it a public school,” she says.

Vax looks up at her over his lunch. “What?”

She waves vaguely with one hand, indicating the other students packed in with them. “We’re going to be in public all the time. Public school.”

His laugh is too soft to be heard over the constant roar. “I’m pretty sure that’s not why.”

She picks a small piece of bread off of her sandwich and throws it at him which he, of course, dodges with ease.

“It’s strange,” he says.

“All these people?”

“Yeah. There were never so many in Syngorn.” _And they weren’t our age,_ he doesn’t say, but she hears the words anyway. That’s the other problem. Everyone in their father’s house was old, or at least _older_. Occasionally some other diplomat’s child would come along as part of their parent’s retinue, but Vex and Vax were never expected to interact with them. Here, they are.

“We’ll have to make at least one friend,” she says. Her resignation sounds painfully obvious even to her own ears.

The angle of Vax’s shoulders changes slightly and she sees it for the slump it wants to be. Still, he doesn’t argue. They’re both thinking of their mother, how happy she would be if they let someone else into their closed world.

“Should I or should you?”

He mulls it over. “I guess you go first and we take it from there.” They’re both sly talkers, but of the two of them, Vex is the one with the silver tongue. “But later.”

She nods, relieved to have something that feels a little bit like a plan.

 

* * *

 

After lunch, they both walk into Vex’s fourth period AP history class. Their teacher is seated at his desk, reading something on his computer. He’s dressed casually, his desk in disarray, and there’s a coffee stain stretched across a few papers in front of him. When he stands up, she sees it extends to the front of his shirt as well. Internally, she smiles. He’ll be easy to fool.

“You must be the new kids.” He looks back and forth between the two of them, progressively more flustered. Strangers always seem to be confused by how much they look alike. It works in their favor. Vex plans on using it now.

“But I’m only supposed to have one of you right now. Which one is Vex’ahlia?”

“I’m Vex.” She puts on a confused face and looks at her brother, who’s wearing an identical confused expression, then back at the teacher. “Are you sure you don’t also have my brother’s name on your list?”

The teacher flips through a few papers on his desk. “You must be Vax’ildan. Yeah, it says here I have you in my first period.”

Vex and Vax frown. “That’s odd,” Vax says to her.

“Yeah, it is.” She turns to the teacher to explain, voice slightly apologetic, “They only gave us one schedule.” Vex pulls it from her pocket and hands it over. At the top under “name” is their long last name, a comma, and then just the letter “V.”

“Typical,” he mutters and hands it back to her. He looks at Vax. “And you don’t have a schedule at all?”

He shakes his head, apologetic. “It’s the same as my sister’s, I’m afraid. They must have printed the same one twice by accident.”

He sighs. “Alright, I guess we’ll get this sorted out tomorrow. In the meantime just…have a seat.” He flaps his hand at the row of metal chairs lined up in messy rows. They pick two in the middle near the back of the room.

Vex gives her brother the smallest of smiles, barely more than a twitch at the corner of her mouth. _Too easy._

Vax nods, holding back his own smile. _One down, two to go._ He offers his hand for a low five, which she accepts.

 

* * *

 

The next period goes by without incident, lies effortlessly told and believed, and then they have PE. They repeat the charade for the benefit of their teacher, a big burly woman who barely looks at them before nodding and directing them to opposite sides of the gym to get changed.

When they return to the center, they stand side by side, facing slightly away from each other and observing their classmates. Vex taps the back of her finger against the back of his hand and flicks her eyes from person to person. _See any “potential friends”?_ The sarcasm is in the tilt of her eyebrows and the barely-there wrinkle of her nose.

He closes his eyes for a moment and subtly shakes his head. _No one particularly interesting looking._

They’d set some ground rules earlier as well: No one who asks if they’re twins (boring), no one who comments on their accent (annoying), and _definitely_ no one who brings up their father (rude).

Vex lifts her shoulders and drops them again in a motion halfway between a stretch and a shrug. She allows herself to sigh out loud, the sound masked by the echoing conversations of the other students. _Maybe we’ll get lucky._

They’re playing dodgeball today. There’s nothing like competitive sports to reveal people’s true nature. Vex is, admittedly, even looking forward to it a little. Between her perfect aim and her brother’s ability to simply not be there when something is coming his way, they’re sure to win.

“Alright, teams will be boys against girls.”

And the excitement is gone. It’s starting to feel like this school has a personal vendetta against the two of them.

They take their places across the red line painted on the middle of the gym floor. Vax looks down at one of the red balls balanced between them. _So are we trying or not?_

Vex pretends to stretch her arms over her head, then quickly drops them back to her side. _If you want to._

He rolls his head from side to side. _Not really._

_Me either._

_This is becoming irritating._

_At least we’re in the same class._

His smile is too wide and it makes her nervous. She looks up the line of students, but no one’s paying them any attention. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to show a little more emotion.

She smiles back, smaller than she would if she was in private, but it feels good. _No more hiding._

Her brother sends her a nod.

The teacher blows her whistle and the two sides swarm towards the middle to fight over the balls.

She and her brother keep well back from the line, circling, dodging any attempts to get either of them out but also not making any move to join the fray.

In the middle of the court, a gigantic student, easily more than six feet tall, is carrying one of his smaller teammates who looks maybe half his size on his shoulders, catching anything anyone attempts to throw at either of them and feeding the balls to the boy on his shoulder.

Vex directs her brother’s attention to this well-oiled machine decimating her team’s defenses. _Look at that._

He stops for a moment, almost getting whacked in the side by a ball, and stares. _Holy shit._ Neither of them smiles, but both of their faces light up with interest.

_They seem like fun._

Her brother doesn’t respond, too busy trying to remember their faces.

“New kids! Stop the dance routine and get in there!”

Well, they had to know their plan wouldn’t work forever. Vex grabs the ball nearest her and waits for her brother to do the same. _Ready?_

He crouches, pretending to look for a target. _Ready._

She smirks. _Don’t miss._

They throw. She gets him square in the stomach while he manages to clip the side of her leg. The whistle squeals again.

“You’re both out!”

“Wow, it’s almost like that was the plan,” Vex mutters. She looks over her shoulder to see her brother almost at the dividing line between the two sides when a boy comes up behind him.

And pushes.

He falls.

The boy laughs.

Everything goes red.

Vex reaches out, rips the ball out of a nearby girl’s arms, reels back, and throws the ball as hard as she can at the boy’s face. Even before it leaves her hand she knows it’ll strike true. She can feel it in her stance, in the trajectory of the ball as it zooms through the air, spinning perfectly before hitting him in the face with a resounding _smack_.

The ball falls, bounces once, twice, three times. There’s a large red mark blooming on the boy’s face and what looks like a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. The entire gym is quiet.

Vex almost jumps as the whistle screams in her ear.

“Detention, new girl! Report to room 235 after school!”

 

* * *

 

Vax walks with her to room 235. He doesn’t say anything, but the expression on his face, the slump of his shoulders, is louder than any words.

She knows he’s worried—what is he going to tell their mother?—but she doesn’t have any comfort to offer. Was what she did right? No, she certainly could’ve handled that better. Retribution could’ve been less public and more humiliating. Would she do it again? Absolutely. The only person who gets to laugh at her brother is her.

“What’s our story?” Vax asks.

“The truth.”

“That you threw a ball at some kid’s head and made him bleed?”

“It was only a little. And it was for a good cause.”

“Next time let’s just put frogs in his backpack or something.”

“That was much more satisfying and you know it.”

Vax laughs and after a moment, she joins in. The sound echoes in the empty hallway.

They hesitate outside the door. _I’ll go with you._ Vax hitches backpack higher up his shoulder.

She shakes her head. _No._ It was her mistake. All that work all day to control herself and she loses it right at the last second.

 _I’ll wait then._ His shoulders are pulled back and his jaw is set. She won’t be able to convince him otherwise. “I’ll text Mom that we’ll be home late.”

“Sounds good.” _See you in an hour._

The inside of the room is surprisingly well-lit, and despite the grimy windows, natural light manages to come streaming in. There are only two other people in the room, a sleeping teacher and a well-dressed boy with white hair and strange glasses. She sits in the same row but leaves a seat between them as she studies him out of the corner of her eye. The material and cut scream money, three or four dollar signs’ worth. But he goes to school here. And he’s in detention. More interesting people.

She leans forward. “So what are you in for?”

“Sorry?” He seems surprised that she’s even noticed him.

She gestures at the room and the teacher sleeping behind the desk. “You must be here for a reason, right?”

“Well, yes, obviously.”

“So what’d you do?”

He looks down at his desk. He’s not ashamed, but he’s pretending to be ashamed. She smiles, careful not to let it show on her face. Another actor. _Curiouser and curiouser._

“I blew something up in chem lab.”

Her eyes light up. She lets the smile through and doesn’t try to hide any of the excitement in her voice as she says, “Whoa, _really_?” She leans forward a little more.

“It was an accident,” he explains, but his face says no, it wasn’t, not really.

“What were you working on?”

He shrugs. The action doesn’t seem to sit right on his shoulders, like he’s not accustomed to doing something so casual. “It’s a personal project. The chem teacher is a family friend. She lets me work on it during my free period.”

“I’m Vex. Well, Vex’ahlia, but Vex for short.” She sticks her hand out.

“I’m Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III.” He shakes her hand.

She blinks. And she and her brother thought they had mouthfuls for names. “I hope you don’t expect me to call you all of that.”

“I usually go by Percy,” he concedes with a self-deprecating smile.

Percy is as interesting as her first impression promised him to be and by the end of the hour, she feels like she’s found a solid candidate for a friend. He’s sharp, smart, and there’s a darkness to his humor that appeals to her.

She texts her brother: _someone you should meet_

Her phone buzzes with his reply almost immediately: _oh?_

And then: _hour’s up_

She stands up, brushes off her clothes, and says, “You’re not busy right now, are you?” without looking up. It’s easier to pretend she doesn’t care about the answer. She’s not really sure how to do this, this whole “making friends” thing. None of the children of her father’s friends were ever interesting enough or hung around long enough for her and her brother to get to know.

He’s surprised into silence for a beat, then replies, “No, not really. Why?”

She glances up to see her brother walk into the room. For a fraction of a second, she sees what he must look like through Percy’s eyes: Tall (although not as tall as Percy, who towers above them both), intimidating, expressionless. A stranger.

It scares her.

She blinks to clear the image. When she opens her eyes, he’s her brother again, as familiar to her as herself. _Good timing._

_This is the new friend?_

_What do you think?_

Vax manages to give Percy a once over without moving his eyes. He tilts his head in the smallest of nods.

Percy glances back and forth between the two of them. “You’re the new twins.” He says it like a teacher telling them a formula. “We’re supposed to have chemistry together.”

Vax grins without moving his mouth. _Bonus points._

She hides a laugh in her shoulder as she pretends to fix her hair. When it passes, she introduces them. “Percy, this is my brother Vax. Vax, this is Percy.”

“Well actually it’s Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, but Percy for short.”

“He wins,” Vax tells her.

She doesn’t hide this laugh.

“What is Vax short for?”

“Vax’ildan.”

He nods seriously, but he’s fighting back a smile. He’s not as good at hiding as they are. “You’re right. I win.”

As the three of them walk outside, Percy doesn’t ask about their names or their accents or what it’s like to be a twin or about their father or why they suddenly transferred to a small, no-name high school in the middle of the year. They don’t ask him much either. They don’t ask about his white hair or why he has so many names or what happened to the first two Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolos. They do, however, ask how he got to be so damn tall.

He laughs.

When Vex’s phone rings half an hour after the end of detention, she tells her mother honestly, “Sorry, Mom, we got caught up talking to our new friend.” Vax is embarrassed by her casual use of the word, but Percy seems happy and for some reason that makes her happy too.

 

* * *

 

“I’m really disappointed in you both.”

Vex pretends to look chastised. She can’t remember this woman’s name. Yesterday, she refused to use it out of spite, but today it’s simply not in her brain. She’s disappointed in herself, although for a different reason. That’s not a good habit to get into.

She tries to see what’s written on the name plaque sitting on the desk but it’s conveniently angled away from her at the moment. Of course.

“Especially you, Vex. Yesterday you told me that you were really going to try to spend less time with your brother, and then I hear that you _lied_ to all of your teachers so you two could stick together? And then you wound up in _detention_?” The woman shakes her head, her mouth pulling down in a frown. Vex lets out a long, measured breath from her nostrils instead of the disdainful snort it wants to be. The lipstick on the woman’s teeth is making it hard to take anything she says seriously.

(Vax pointed it out when they walked in, eyes flicking towards the desk as he pulled back his lips to expose the barest sliver of teeth.)

The woman turns to Vax. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

He hangs his head, looking at his hands. “No, ma’am,” he says in a small voice.

Vex lets out that measured breath through her nose again. She’s so used to her brother’s performances she can see right through them, but this woman is being played like a fiddle.

“What about you, Vex?”

She mimics Vax’s posture. “No.”

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call home.”

Their eyes meet and their thoughts are so loud on their faces it feels like they’re shouting: _NO._ For the first time since getting caught, they feel real remorse.

She can’t call their mother. Elaina doesn’t need this right now, not when she’s already struggling to keep their tiny family together.

Besides, how are they supposed to explain this? _“She refused to let us be in the same classes so we—”_

 _Wait._ The tension slowly leaks out of her body.

Vax looks at her.

She glances up and smiles. It’s a predatory smile, teeth and bloodlust and cruel victory.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Vex asks in her sweetest, most dangerous voice. _Think,_ she tells her brother, widening her eyes at him.

The woman looks thrown by this, clearly not expecting them to rally. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you sure calling our mother is the best idea?” Vax’s eyes widen and his smile grows to match hers. _Oh._ He turns to face the woman across from them, every inch as dangerous as she is.

“I think it is! Your actions are dangerous and indicate some _serious_ anti-social—”

“But isn’t it our mother who asked you to keep us together?” Vex asks.

The woman’s jaw shuts with an audible _click._

Vex leans back in her chair as Vax leans forward, looking at the woman like she’s a bug pinned to a display board.

“She did warn you. Wouldn’t it be a bit _strange_ to call her to complain about what happened when you _didn’t_ keep us together? Not to mention throwing around words like ‘anti-social’ when you don’t even have a psychology degree seems…” He spreads his hands helplessly. “Well, that’s a serious accusation.”

“Who do you think our mother will believe, anyway?” Vex asks. _“You?”_ She packs as much scorn into the simple word as she can fit.

“Or her children?”

Their smiles are still genial, their voices still as sweet and even as when they walked in, but it’s clear they’ve tasted blood and are moving in for the kill.

The woman clears her throat and sits back in her chair, straightening the papers on her desk with shaking hands. “I—I think we’re done here,” she says.

“I think so too,” Vax says.

“Have a wonderful day,” Vex tells her as they leave.

 

* * *

 

They make another new friend that day, a girl named Keyleth. To call her awkward is an understatement. Other people are awkward. Keyleth is awkwardness personified. She is the font from which all awkwardness springs.

How it happens is like this:

She sits in front of Vex in their French class and spends half of the first day shedding petals onto Vex’s desk.

 _Where are they even_ coming _from?_ Vex demands as she holds up another one. What really drives her crazy is that each petal is different from its partners; no two are alike in color or shape or size which means that this girl must have _millions_ of _different_ flowers in her hair.

Vax shakes his head, amused by his sister’s consternation. _I thought you liked nature._

She glares. _Do you want to switch seats? I can make that happen._

_No thank you._

She taps Keyleth on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

To her surprise, the girl turns with a relieved expression on her face. “Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes, scattering more flower petals across Vex’s desk and onto Vax’s desk, the floor, and the empty desk to Vax’s right as she turns all the way around in her seat to face them both.

 _What?_ Vex looks at her brother for an explanation but his wide eyes tell her that he’s just as clueless as she is.

“Group projects are _so stressful_!” She lets out a good-natured groan, shaking her hands in the air to emphasize exactly how stressful she finds group projects. “Thanks for letting me join you guys!”

Vex’s face doesn’t show her mild panic. In fact, it doesn’t show any emotion at all, which is a good thing for this strange, awkward girl because she currently isn’t feeling very charitable.

“Of course,” Vax says smoothly, leaning over to hide his sister’s (well-concealed from Keyleth, obvious to him) shock. “I’m Vax. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Keyleth. You guys are new, right? Oh, that must be so weird.”

Vex manages to recover and put on a convincing smile. “Yes, a little. I’m Vex, by the way.”

“Your names sound so cool together! Vex and Vax. Nice to meet you. I’m Keyleth.”

“You said that already,” Vax reminds her, but his voice is kind.

Vex looks at her brother and, when she sees he’s being sincere, raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. _Really?_ She picked the mysterious boy who blew up the chem lab and her brother’s choice is…this girl?

Vax nudges her foot out of Keyleth’s sight. _Don’t count her out just because of a bad first impression._

Keyleth is surprisingly good at French and, once she relaxes enough to say something other than “wow” or “oh” or repetitions of what she’s already said, she’s also fairly interesting. She even manages to make them laugh once or twice and when she asks if they want to sit with her at lunch, they look at each other once before agreeing with a “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

 _This is your fault._ Vex is very purposefully not looking at her brother as they wade through the cafeteria crowd to the table that Keyleth is sharing with her three (three!) friends.

 _How so?_ But she can tell Vax is uncomfortable as well, his shoulders too stiff, his face a rictus of practiced neutrality.

She briefly considers letting it go—they’ve both made mistakes—but then Keyleth’s other friends turn around and give them curious looks and she feels herself seize up at the attention, her face starting to strain at the amount of effort she’s putting into keeping her smile in place. _You’re the one who picked Miss Congeniality for a new best friend._

Something like annoyance flashes in his eyes. _Like you’ve never made a mistake._

 _Not without fixing it._ One new friend was the promise they’d made themselves. Two is acceptable; it’s only fair they each get to choose. Five is completely out of the question. It looks like they won’t be talking to Keyleth after today. It’s up to Vax to figure out how they accomplish that.

Out of the corner, she sees his smile relax into something more natural and he quirks an eyebrow at her.

 _What?_ What did she miss? He can’t suddenly be looking forward to making polite conversation with four strangers (and just the thought of it is enough to make her feel faint).

_Notice anyone familiar?_

She glances at the table again, cataloging everyone. There’s Keyleth, still waving at them excitedly even though it’s clear they’ve already seen her, a short girl with platinum blonde hair, and two familiar boys, one so big he looks like a small mountain planted in the middle of the table and one whose hair, gelled up to make him seem taller, barely comes up to the other’s shoulder.

She lets her smile grow, showing a little bit of her teeth, and resists the urge to cover her mouth. She’s trying, but it still feels weird to let her emotions show so honestly on her face after the time they spent in their father’s house. _I take it back._

_I accept your apology._

She snorts and pokes a nail into his leg, just sharp enough for him to feel but not so hard as to hurt him. _As if._

They both settle into empty seats, Vax next to Keyleth and Vex next to the boy built like a mountain. She briefly glances at the small stool that’s trying its best to hold up his huge frame and glances at her brother. _When do you think it’ll snap?_

  _A bet?_

_Just in case this lunch turns out to be boring after all._

Her brother glances over her shoulder—and she hates having her back to the room at large, but it’s better if they can both hear the conversation and intervene if the other needs help—and sends her a look. _Doubtful._

She glances over her shoulder and allows herself a small smile as she catches sight of a familiar head of white hair sticking out at least five inches above the rest of the lunch crowd. She lifts her hand in a wave but Percy is already heading towards them.

Belatedly, she realizes Keyleth is talking, introducing her other friends to them. She pulls out her phone and taps out a message under the table.

_i missed their names_

_big: grog_

_small guy: scanlan_

_small girl: pike_

Her phone buzzes again as Percy takes the seat next to her and she glances down.

_& of course you already know tall pale  & handsome_

She gives her brother a look that lets him know exactly what she thinks of that comment, but all she sends back is: _our names don’t even stick out i’m almost disappointed_

_weird names club_

_like the breakfast club but more pathetic_

She bites her tongue on the laugh that threatens to escape.

Next to her, Percy takes a seat at the table and flashes her and her brother a smile. “I see you’ve met Keyleth.”

“We have French together. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” She glances at Keyleth, bright and bouncy and dressed like some Bohemian daydream, and then at Percy, his face severe and his outfit noteworthy only because of its sleek, expensive lines.

His smile turns rueful and she’s a little annoyed that he was able to figure out what she was thinking so quickly. “We’re certainly a pair, I agree.”

She and Vax exchange a glance and her brother shifts in his seat next to Keyleth. “Sorry, would you rather—?” he starts.

Percy looks confused.

“I mean, I’m sure you’d rather to sit next to your girlfriend.”

The entire table goes quiet for three seconds, and then everyone at the table except Vex and Vax bursts into laughter.

Her brother’s face is polite confusion, but she can see him fighting not to blush. Everything around her starts turning red at the edges as she does her best to focus on her breathing. _This isn’t Syngorn._ She holds onto this thought until it’s the only thing in her mind and she can see her brother relax out of the corner of her eye, likely thinking the same thing.

“Sorry, sorry,” the blonde girl, Pike, finally says, gasping to catch her breath as she reaches over to pat Vax on the hand. Vex sees her brother stiffen and nudges him with her foot under the table. _Relax._ “We weren’t laughing at you, I promise. It’s just funny because they get that a _lot_.”

“Unfortunately.” Keyleth and Percy make the same face at the same time and Vex laughs, her relief making it sound a little shaky. _They weren’t laughing at us._ That hasn’t happened in a long time, but it seems the memories still have a tight hold on them.

“Sorry, I heard ‘pair’ and I assumed…” Vax makes himself look embarrassed, but she can see the relief hiding underneath.

That sets everyone off again, but this time she and her brother are in on the joke and it doesn’t trigger a fight-or-flight response. Her shoulders, tense the past few days, finally relax and under the table she nudges the tip of her brother’s shoe with her boot. Maybe it’ll be okay here.

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally intended for this to be much longer and more Scooby Doo-like, but I couldn't quite seem to find my way to a Mystery Machine plot line. Feel free to try one yourself.


End file.
